Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Sometimes, Of Course, I Lie

I have no news to tell,
I don’t know what news is.
I don’t know who is holding
whom, or being held.
The show biz

of existence
is supernally alluring
but I don’t know how
to interview its stars –
ferocious light ignites

my sight – debars
an explanation.
I chant a votive prayer
to motive: dare to ask
to grasp the scrutable.

All is mutable.
Sometimes, of course,
I lie. I do, for instance,
know who’s holding whom,
and why. I spy

on strange embraces
every day to try to find
a way to do
a little justice to
the mystic loving sigh.



JB said...


Just wanted to give you a belated thank you for your 1st, 2nd and 3rd year sobriety books. You did a great job writing the feelings and questions that are sometimes hard to grasp at meetings. Funny how those feelings seem to follow a similar timeline with us. I no longer have the books because I passed them on to people struggling in the respective year.

I always wondered why you stopped after the 3rd year. I suppose that 4-7 (for me) are kind of all the same....learning how to live with living.

Thank you

Guy Kettelhack said...

thank you John -- what a great thing to tell me. Means a lot. I stopped because a three-year series was all Harper San Francisco/Hazelden contracted for: I think with the idea that experience became a bit more diffuse and harder to characterize by year after that.

again - thanks!